


Every Picture Tells A Story

by ATTHS_TWICE



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: s05e22 The End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 19:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16001729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATTHS_TWICE/pseuds/ATTHS_TWICE
Summary: Where did the picture come from in their basement office? Who took it and when?





	Every Picture Tells A Story

**Author's Note:**

> Completely unexpected story, brought on by a tweet posted by @AsterBerenbos and her question about the mystery photo. The photo is of the two of them in FBI jackets, but where did it come from? And who put it there?

Mulder stood in their office, looking at the picture on the shelf, and he smiled. Scully teased him when she caught him staring at it. She rolled her eyes and said he was a sentimental fool sometimes, and he could not disagree. He knew though, that she loved it too. 

They had lost almost everything recently, in the fire in their office. The things that were salvageable, were burnt in spots, but he had to be thankful for what they did have. The files, pictures, and other items they had lost, were sentimental to him. His office was an extension of him and it had been foolish to keep items he loved where they could be harmed. Still, he had never expected a fire to steal all the memories he held dear.  

Trying to remember everything that had been in there was difficult. Some things were easy to reproduce, but pictures not as much. They did not have many of them together, so the loss of them hurt deeper than other items. He was happy to have this new one, even if the reason for it, was not because of a happy situation.

They had been called in to help on a case. A girl had vanished, and then two more. There was a manhunt underway and they were asked to lend their expertise. Mulder as a profiler and Scully as a doctor.  

One girl had been found, strange bruise patterns and cuts on her body. No one could figure out what had happened to her and so they had called in the “Spooky Department.” He had heard that term muttered more than once. He did not care about it so much, but every time he knew Scully had heard it, it made her hackles rise. He hated that they made her feel the way she did simply because she was his partner. She was brilliant and did not deserve to be treated that way.  

Then they got a tip and a location of where the other girls might be being held. They arrived at the area a few hours later, ready to go into the house they suspected belonged to the man who had the girls. A rush of agents converged on the house and they found the girls in the basement. They had been taken because the man believed himself to be the next messiah and he was preparing his “flock of followers.” The cuts and bruises the first girl had suffered were from items he had used to “ready her for absolution.” Mulder saw Scully turn away as she heard him say those words. His own stomach had turned, as well.

They had stayed at the house for hours, gathering evidence, interviewing neighbors, searching the area for any other clues. Mulder had lost track of Scully in the hubbub. So many agents and so much to focus on, they had been separated. Mulder had been pulled aside to discuss how his profile had helped them to put the word out, leading to the tip they received. He took the thanks and tried to get away.

A few more agents clapped him on the back as he attempted to leave and he felt like telling them all to go to hell. Yeah, they praised him after, but laughed at him when he suggested an outlandish idea. Fuck them, he needed to find Scully.

He saw her a ways off and made his way over to her. She had her arms crossed and she still looked a bit upset. She glanced up and visibly relaxed when she saw it was him. He stood there and they said nothing at first.

He turned and looked over his shoulder toward the rest of the agents. He shook his head and looked back at her.

“Have they been thanking you profusely? Now that your “crazy theory” has found results?” she asked him, slightly shaking her head.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” he answered her, his head down looking at the grass.

“How do you put up with it, Mulder? It can’t just be that you’re used to it. It’s bullshit how they treat you every time we are asked to help. They poke fun, they make comments, and yet you don’t seem to be affected by any of it. Then when you’re right, they thank you but seem to forget they thought you were crazy for suggesting it,” she said with anger in her voice.

He exhaled a laugh, running his foot in the grass, then raising his eyes to her. He shrugged and shook his head.

“If my theories or ideas lead to helping someone, I don’t care how crazy I sound,” he told her. “They want to paint me as spooky and weird, they can go ahead. Those girls will be home tonight and that’s how I will be able to sleep better.”

She smiled at him and he smiled back. She shook her head and looked over her shoulder too. She sighed and he looked at her.

“What those girls went through, Mulder…” she trailed off, looking down.

“I know. They are safe now, that is the the best way to think about it moving forward. It could have been so much worse,” he said quietly.

She nodded again.

“You know,” he said, wanting to ease the tension and erase the worry he saw on her face. “You make fun of my theories plenty.”

Her head shot up and she stared at him. He smiled at her as she tried to hide her smile.

“Are you insinuating that I laugh at you the way they do, Mulder?” she glanced over at the other agents and she clasped her hands together.

He pointed at her and smiled. “Maybe not the same way, Scully, but you do. And I’m almost always right. You said so yourself.”

She looked back at him and he dropped his hand, though his smile remained.

“I may laugh or tease you, Mulder, but I would never treat you the way they do,” she said, her eyes staring, her brow furrowed.

He stared at her and he nodded. He knew she never would, and never had. She argued with him, rolled her eyes, refused to believe in what he knew she saw, but she still was by his side through it all. She was his support system, wrapped up in small package. A small package that brought many a man to his knees.

They stood there for a few more minutes before he suggested they join the others and hopefully head home soon.

A few weeks later, they were all briefed on the success of the mission. Brought up to date on the status of the victims and the incarceration of the criminal. As they were shown the data, the photos, and evidence, a picture of the two of them popped up and was passed around the room.

Other agents were photographed collecting evidence and so were they, but this particular photo was of them just talking. He recognized it immediately and knew what they have been discussing as that picture was taken. He wanted that photo.

He wanted it in their new office. A celebration of new beginnings, and a photo to replace the one they lost. Physical evidence that she was there with him, they had each other’s backs, and he could make her smile even in the most serious of times.

The meeting ended and he made his way to the front of the room. He made a show of collecting the papers and other items. When his hands landed on that picture, he took his chance and hid it in the file he carried, that they would add to their cabinet. No one seemed to notice and he walked out with it before they could stop him.

He went downstairs before Scully as she had stopped to check on some lab results. He took the picture out and stared at it. At the two of them together, her look of astonishment, and his attempt to make her laugh. He smiled at how perfectly their partnership was captured in a picture.

He was always the one pointing, pushing, making her see his side. She was looking away, as if his crazy ideas were too much for her. But there she stood, by his side, ready to fight with him when it was needed.

He stuck the picture up with a pushpin. He stared at it for a bit longer and then he heard her heels clicking down the hallway. Best not to be caught staring at their picture like a weirdo. He moved over and sat at the desk as she walked in the office.

She had a file in her hands and she began reading him what she had discovered. She glanced up and he saw her see the picture. She looked at him and back at the picture. She set the file down on his desk and walked over to it. She touched it and looked between their faces. She smiled and then turned to him, finding him staring at her.

“No need to bother telling you that’s evidence, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He made a face and shook his head. She nodded and picked up the file, back to business.

The next day, she had arrived before him. He hung his coat and greeted her, discussing the case from the file she had yesterday. She was in the chair in front of his desk, looking at something on her lap.

He walked to his desk, noticing the picture was missing. He turned and looked at her, but she had her eyes down, engrossed in what she was reading. Then he saw it.

On his desk was the picture, in a frame. He smiled and tilted his head. He sat down and reached for it. He glanced at her again and she was looking at him side eyed with a smile on her face. He smiled and turned in his chair, setting it on the desktop behind him. He stared at it, happy to have a little piece of them back.

“Turn it over,” she said.

He turned his head to look at her, but she was still looking down at the file. He grinned and did as she said.

On the back, she had written with a silver pen, “Team Spooky.” He laughed and looked at her again. She had raised her eyes to his and he nodded at her. He set the picture down and sat back in his chair. She slid the file to him and showed him where the lab work pointed to what they needed. He nodded, looked at her and then the picture again.

He looked back at her and she rolled her eyes. Yeah, things were finally feeling like they were getting back on track.

  
  
  
  



End file.
